Green Peas and Birth Control
He waddled toward me, testicles swinging to and fro, a pendulum of corpulence; and I was hypnotized. He stopped only to reach for his satchel of mauve Martha Stewart bath towels. Tufts of hair sprouted from his palms, but his bedspread was impeccable, and of this I was sure. His actions were ominous. As he bent over, rolls of fat tumultuously radiating, his actions labored and trodden, I stared at the tuft of steam in the distance. The familiar chug of the locomotive drew nearer, my eyes widening in unbearable pain. I was split, my crown of tears defining my juxtapositions. I won't be the cause of pain, I won't. It haunts me in my dreams. As the train drew nearer I wished him goodbye, to He who I always loved, to He which my chattels of deception were so criminally directed. His cherubic figure ripped apart, as his exposed rectum exploded into a shrapnel storm of feces and smegma. I smiled the smile of a thousand schoolboys.
R.I.P Mass Junkie
